The next-generation Scoobies face some serious problems when they learn of their strange origins, and a fertility goddess disgused as a teenager rolls into town to wreak havoc upon the kids... and adults.

Disclaimer: Canon characters belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy, plot (derived from 'The Beltane Babies Challenge') belongs to gidgetgirl, and Vivie, Tobias, Mya, Gisele, Cody, Candace, Flora, the Armstrong High teachers and principal, and Regina, however, do belong to me. Ask if you want to use them! I'm always willing to share

Ohio Is For Lovers

Chapter One

"I hope I shall be able to confide in you completely, as I have never been able to do in anyone before, and I hope that you will be a great support and comfort to me."
—Anne Frank, first diary entry (June 12, 1942)

Well, as long as I'm going into Anne Frank (minus the Holocaust, I hope) mode with this spanking new diary, I may as well explain the strangeness that is my life.

As aforementioned, I am Vivie, which is probably derived from some horrible Irish name that I don't even know about, but at this very second, I'm just Vivie. Woo hoo. But the thing is, I'm not what most would define as normal. For one, I'm the spawn of a vampire slayer and, go figure, a bloodsucking fiend. Well, he's not really that much of a fiend. He's really like a… um… a—a little bunny with fangs… no, that's really scary… I mean, hello, Monty Python much? Anyway, point is, the reason my life is probably so weird is because it's in my lineage. In theory, I'm not even supposed to exist. Dead people can't have live kiddos. But, here I am, talking to you, whoever you may be, and if you're Cody or, for that matter, any of my friends or family, GET OUT RIGHT NOW, OR I WILL USE THAT VOODOO THINGIE I GOT!

Oh, and my dad, he's, like, a detective. 'Angel Investigations'. How cool is that? On the other hand, Mom just got a job as a school psychologist for our school… one of Cleveland's many fine public schools, Armstrong High. Mom isn't even that good with crisises! If she can't handle her own, why handle other people's? Not to be all rude and say my mom is a psychopath, even if a name like Buffy makes her sound like one.

I really need to actually stay on track when I talk about stuff. Oh well.

Well, as long as I've got the oldsters covered, I should get onto my friends. The thing is, we're all born within about four days of each other, all six of us. Me, Tobias, Mya, Gisele, Cody, and Candace. All of our parents were friends, or in totally googly-eye mode for each other, and we just happen to be born really close to each other. It's like they had an orgy—oh, God, scary place, scary place! Ew!

Because of this, we were much raised like, say, a pack of ravenous, annoying little wolves with superpowers. When the adult portion of the gang was out hunting for deer, or, in this case, working, one of the mothers would stay behind and take care of us. It was a circulating babysitting job, and it was one of the toughest around. But, wow, were we close. I don't even have an individual baby picture; there are usually three or four other little cubs with me in it. Not literally, since, you know, the wolf pack thing was one of those insightful metaphors, but you catch my drift, right?

First, there's the awesomeness that is me; blonde bombshell (not really, but I do have this insanely long blonde 'mane' as I so close to dub it), boy magnet (well, this one I'm serious about… but I've got the whole "love 'em and leave 'em" approach to the whole situation), and… um… I fly. Well, usually just levitate a few feet off of the ground with no 'ohm'-ing required, except for when I was about four, and I flew. Not like a little songbird, like an eagle or something, and I landed in this jinormous tree that was jutting about twenty or thirty feet in the air, and I looked down, and I couldn't fly down to the ground. It took at least three hours for the firefighters (even with the cherry pickers) to get me down from there. Very traumatizing. Mom was even crying and stuff (see, she is a non-crisis person!). It was actually kind of funny, now that I think about it. Imagining my mother as a big gushy mess is a humor that few understand.

Next, we've got Tobias Wyndam-Price, resident static boy. He's got to have about three pounds of gel to actually hold his hair down, or else it's a big, red, frizzy Jewfro. Y'see, he's got this whole thing that he classifies as 'electrokinesis', but it's not as cool as it sounds. It just basically means he's got electric powers, like shooting out electricity like he's the almighty Zeus, or going really, really fast, harnessing the power of a lightning bolt. I've got to hand it to ole Toby; he can give the Flash a run for his money. But, he's as geeky as the geeky come, I mean, for God's sake, he knows just about every human language fluently (he really does; he made our grumpy old Spanish teacher, Mr. Alfonso, quit), and a few demon ones, too. And he was the incarnation of Linus from Peanuts when he was a little kid, walking around with that stupid blanket and his thumb jammed in his mouth. Hell, I even sometimes catch him thumbsucking now, but then he moves his finger and casually rubs his nose if he notices, and denies anything. What a dork. He's a lot like his parents, or so my own say. His dad was a Watcher turned employee for Dad; named Wesley (what a cool name… whoa… did I just call Wesley cool? Ew.)… and his mom's a witch, Willow. She's totally cool. If only my mom were like that, but alas, my mom has to be Ms. 'Look-At-Me-I'm-Totally-Embarrassing'.

After Mr. Dork, we have Ms. Osbourne… Mya Osbourne, who happens to be totally cool, no matter what she tells you. She's so shy, and, keep in mind that I'm not a lesbian here, and really, really pretty. And, wow, she has a voice like an angel. Not Dad Angel, because, no offense to Dad, but, he cannot sing the Barry Manilow. Like seraphim kind of angel. But, what does Mya do? She doesn't even look at the chorus signup sheet! Don't get me wrong, I love her, I really do, but still—yeah. She even has a power that suits her; she can turn invisible. I kid you not. One time, in Algebra, Mrs. Rollins called on her, and poof! She was gone. Everyone was really weirded out. I mean, you don't normally see a person disappear. But we live on a hellmouth—always have, first in Sunnydale, now Cleveland. As I was saying… oh, yeah, Mya… well, she's also the spawn of a witch, named Tara (who also happens to be immensely cool, why don't I get mildly cool parents?), and a werewolf, Oz (I'm not sure that's his real name, but still, very, very awesome).

My fellow half-Slayer, half-vampire isn't nearly as cool as I am. You don't get much of the amazingness with a name like Gisele. And yet, she happens to be so—I don't know, fiery? What an ironic term, since, ha ha, her power is setting stuff on fire. Like clothes, people's hair (don't even get me started on the aunt-Cordy's-birthday-party-incident of '05), and once, she made her already slightly maimed Barbie doll (we all had those—with the scary haircuts and missing limbs) burst into flames when she got really angry. She's a literal hothead, I guess. Gisele, as many of my friends do, have awe-aspiring parents; Spike, or, as I dub him, Captain Peroxide (and he dubs me pimpstress—I only have two boyfriends!) and Faith, who is like the cool chaperone at the prom who slips the booze around.

And then there's Candace, who's such a lucky little biznatch—she can actually, like, make herself look different. I mean, it's not like she's an Animorph and can turn into a dog or something, she can just change certain aspects of what she appears to be. Like, she can make herself look older, walk into some club where there's lots of booze, then transform back into her regular old self so she can hit on some guy. Well, actually, no one knows what Candace's regular old self is. The only real telltale sign is in her eyes, which are this really creepy velvet black color that always have this mischievous glint when she's about to do something really stupid. Which has a tendency to happen when you're on a hellmouth. Anyway, her mom, Cordelia (what a name, huh?) works for Dad at the detective agency as a secretary, and her dad, Riley, works for the feds. Like most couples in Cleveland, very, very strange.

Last, and certainly not least, is Cody Harris, Mr. Pervert himself. Okay, he's not that bad, but come on! Just because he has all types of visions (x-ray, premonitions, etc.), doesn't give the guy permission to look through to the girl's locker room! But, he is really, really funny, his penchant for goofiness sometimes getting him on the wrong side of our teachers and Principal Ewing. Well, he does get on the good side of Dawn a lot, since she's our Watcher, and appreciates his humor. While none of us are Slayers, we do fight for truth, justice, and the American way (go Superman reference!), and Dawn sort of… guides us. She's the photography and journalism teacher at the school, so, naturally, we sign up for every class we can get with her. She's the wo-man, and happens to be my aunt. But, anyway, as long as I'm going with this, Cody's parents are Xander (took me a while to figure out that was actually short for Alexander) and Anya.

Phew, that took a lot of leadpower.

Tomorrow, we get back from the long, four-day weekend (thanks to this really weird blizzard that cancelled school for two days, plus the weekend), and back to Hell High. As you can see, I'm not too thrilled about going back. But, on the plus side, my birthday (February 2nd) is in a week! Yay!

Tootles,

Vivie

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